sat bolt upright in bed, and pulled a revolver out from under the
coverings. "Youse don't bring no doctor here! See! Youse put
a finger on dat door, an' it won't be de door youse'1l go out by!"

Rhoda Gray did not move.

"Nan, put that revolver down!" she ordered quietly. "You don't
know what you are doing."

"Don't!?" leered Gypsy Nan. The revolver held, swaying a little
unsteadily, on Rhoda Gray. There was silence for a moment; then
Gypsy Nan spoke again, evidently through dry lips, for she wet them
again and again with her tongue: "Say, youse are de White Moll,
ain't youse?"

"Yes," said Rhoda Gray.

Gypsy Nan appeared to ponder this for an instant.

"Well den, come back here an' sit down on de foot of de bed,"
she commanded finally.

Rhoda Gray obeyed without hesitation. There was nothing to do
but humor the woman in her present state, a state that seemed one
bordering on delirium and complete collapse.

"Nan," she said, "you -"

"De White Moll!" mumbled Gypsy Nan. "I wonder if de dope dey hands
out about youse is all on de level? My Gawd, I wonder if wot dey